Luckless
by Holly's Follies
Summary: This is a fic I wrote for my sister, not my normal work. James loses something dear to his heart.


**Hello loyal readers! If you're looking for my normal style of writing, this isn't it! This is a fic I wrote for my sister about her favorite character James. In honor of that, I've written to the best of my ability and come up with… this. **

James stared at his flawless face in the mirror. His brown eyes stared back at him. Perfect eyes. Perfect teeth. Perfect lips. Perfect _hair_. He gripped the counter tighter. His long brown hair fell in his eyes. He looked down, biting his lip. He realized his shoulders were shaking.

He held back screams, sobs. His bottom lip dripped blood down his chin. He knew what he had to do. Clutching the scissors in his hand he brought them up slowly, but he lowered them before they reached their destination. Memories assaulted his consciousness. Trying not to cry out, he cradled his head in his left hand.

Logan, sprawled on the ground, pale, clutching broken remnants in his hands.

Carlos, curled up in the corner, terror stricken across his face.

Kendall, eyes flaring, but with that trademark smirk flashing across his face. "I told you what would happen. I told you."

James moaned, leaning against the sink for support. What had he done? If he'd just left Logan alone, none of this would've happened, but he had to go and mess with him. "Why am I so stupid?" he whispered. "Why am I such an idiot?"

Kendall, of course, had gotten involved. Everyone knew Logan would never retaliate. That's why everyone picked on him. He would just shrug and turn the other cheek. But Kendall… Kendall was a different matter entirely.

Kendall's retribution was swift and merciless, even more so if you'd done something to Logan. He was sadistic, tenacious. He wouldn't rest until he'd had his revenge. Unfortunately, James had been on the receiving end of that revenge. Now he was paying the price.

James tried not to cry as he thought about what he had to do. It hurt so much, but after what Kendall had said and done… There was no other choice. He raised the scissors again in trembling hands. They got closer and closer. James almost closed his eyes, but couldn't bear to look away from his reflection.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed silently, apologizing to everyone his actions would affect, to all the lives that would be ruined with his few simple actions.

He brought the scissors to the place where he knew they'd have the greatest affect, pressed the blades down, and… snip! A lock of brown hair fell from his head. James felt nauseous, but kept going. Snip! Snip! Snip! Snip!

Chunk after chunk of hair fell into the sink and down around his feet. He kept going till all he had was bristle on his head. Then he grabbed his electric razor and put it to use. He looked at his reflection, and felt a great sadness well up inside him. It was only fitting, after all. He _was_ in mourning. At 11:59 that morning he had lost one of the most important things in his life: his lucky comb.

That's why he had to shave his head. He no longer had that beautiful comb to run through his gorgeous locks. He would never again feel the security of constantly having it in his pocket. He would never again gain strength from the luck that ran through that little strip of plastic. He felt like he had lost one of his best friends. It was symbolic, he'd decided, to get rid of his hair. With the new hair that grew in, he would find a new luck in a new comb. Symbolism, that's what had started this whole mess.

He had been teasing Logan about all the big words he knew when he'd mentioned how symbolic something was. He'd taken it a little too far, and Logan had gotten upset. That's when Kendall jumped in.

Logan had tried to stop him; he didn't want anyone to get hurt, but when Kendall got overprotective, he couldn't be stopped. His comb had been the only casualty.

Carlos had run for cover and curled up in a protective ball in the corner, expecting World War Three to break out. Logan had dived to the ground, trying to find all the pieces, muttering about how they could fix it and trying to prevent any further bloodshed.

Everyone had expected James to explode, but instead, with a vague kind of detachment, he'd grabbed a pair of scissors and locked himself in the bathroom, where he was now.

James stared at his flawless face in the mirror. His brown eyes stared back at him. Perfect eyes. Perfect teeth. Perfect lips. Perfect-… ly bald.

**Send me reviews, not death threats. *Author looks around, runs for her life***


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